Weight of the world
by Mystiqbard
Summary: Once Upon a Time: The X-men find themselves far from home when Ororo and Logan's son decides to show his true colours, in an unfamiliar world where the darkest legends and myths do truly exist
1. Chapter 1: Growing up Growing old

_**The Weight of the World...**_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original X-men characters.

Continuity: **Xierra Series** post '9 Months in a Day'.

Characters: Ensemble X-men

* * *

_I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evil._

_-Euripides, Medea (431 B.C)_

A bloodied fist shot through the air, striking the stumbling man in the solar plexus. He stumbled back into the crowd, gasping for air and praying for energy. He'd met with the floor of the rank but unused loading bay many times that night. The stench of fresh sweat and dried blood had filled his nostrils, made him dizzy from disgust. His eye had swelled from the knock he'd received earlier and blood seeped out from the torn and enflamed skin. It was unclear whether once, his features had been pleasant. A bloodied mass had replaced any kind of recognition one human being might have for another. He'd continued on because he had money riding on this fight, a fight which he'd thought would be an easy win when he'd first seen his opponent. Amidst the shouts and cheers, he realised that he was outmatched. The overhead lights swam in and out of clear vision as he tried to regain his feet. He tried to breath steadily, but the injuries, coupled with the stifling smell of sweat, beer, urine and a hundred bodies was overwhelming. No one thought that the stranger would last five minutes against him: a seasoned fighter and favourite in this underground ring. He'd thought this young fighter was the same, cocky breed that came to the fights every so often; thinking they could take on the 'old timers' and landing up with a face full of their own bullshit. But he wasn't. This kid was an animal.

At a good 6"3, he had towered over the ailing man's own form when they'd first faced up. He'd laughed before the fight began, thinking he'd resembled a male model more than a kick boxer. Once the fog horn had sounded, he'd seen the change in his opponents face, muscles and manner as they prepared to fight. He'd seen it then: not anger, or rage, but something else. It was the look of a man who was about to indulge, and savour every moment. His body was lean, strong; every muscle could be seen to full effect, rippling beneath a thin film of sweat. Bronze skin in stark contrast to the snowy, white hair; wild and disheveled. His deep-set grey eyes were framed by silver brows, eyes that bore pure ferocity, and fear when coupled with the canine-like set of teeth which he bore more often than not. At some point, he was sure that he'd heard the kid growl. But even though this man seemed but a step away from becoming a beast, he moved with fluidity, speed and grace. Not effeminate in any way, but a marvel to behold and respect. He was at ease in this blood sport. When the fight had begun, he'd thought the young man to be out of his league, but now, it seemed to be the opposite.

Those moments of thought passed in mere seconds, seconds which he'd used to recover somewhat. The kid suddenly stopped his skilled footwork, spat to one side, and wiped his mouth with the back of a partially bandaged hand. He stalked to his opponent, jaw clenched, teeth glinting, and with one powerful strike to the defeated man's jaw, shattered it.

_888_

Logan turned onto his back, and groggily opened his grey eyes. Sunlight streamed into the room, a warm breeze following it through the almost always, open French doors of the loft. He moved his hand across the bed, alarmed that he didn't feel the beautiful form that had stolen his dreams. _Dreams._ He realised then that he'd slept through the whole night, uninterrupted by the nightmares that had plagued him for months. He sat up, glancing over at Ororo's cellphone for the time. "Shit." He got out of bed and reached for the jeans he'd worn the night before. As was his custom, he lifted his arm and sniffed. He was still good. He began his morning routine in the en-suite bathroom, relieving himself and feeling all the better for it. Next came the obligatory cup of mouth wash, which Jubilee had demanded of him some time back.

He pulled his T-shirt over his head as he made his way downstairs, greeting two pupils along the way. Remy was standing at the kitchen door leading to the garden, one foot in, one foot out. _"Bonjour, mon ami."_ He greeted, cigarette in his far hand. 'No smoking in the kitchen' was the new house rule. Logan lifted a finger as he dug in the fridge. The mansion seemed quiet, it was summer vacation after all. Most of the students had roped Bobby into chaperoning a day at the beach, accompanied, of course, by Rogue. The few that had stayed behind had kept to themselves for the most part. Remy's eyes sharpened as he took another long drag; exhaled. "What's it like bein' a father, old man?"

Logan brought the milk carton to his lips before stopping it there. "Wish I'd had more time t' get used t' it." He said without looking to him.

"Don't you worry, he be turnin' out just fine, even wit' you as his _paps_." The Cajun smiled as he received a thick, middle finger salute. "Nice."

"You know where 'Ro's gotten to?" Logan tossed the carton into the trash.

Remy nodded, taking a final drag of the cigarette, tossing it on the floor, and using his toe to end its life. "Last I saw, she be in de lower levels." The short man muttered something in thanks and left him. Remy hadn't spent a lot of time at the mansion since Ororo had given birth. There were too many memories, too many thoughts that hit him like a sledgehammer as soon as he set foot on the grounds. He'd changed over the last few years, and he didn't like it. There were a lot of 'free spirits' within the X-men, his ranking right up there, and recently passing Logan's. He'd always been able to leave this part of his life right where it was when he wanted to. Being able to forget his identity and live with all the freedom that he wished, was therapeutic in itself. To the X-men he was one man, to the world, another. But _she_ had gotten in the way of all that. He'd thought it was love, once upon a time. Now he wasn't so sure. It was an odd kind of obsession that he'd never known himself to have. Images of her had crept into his mind, even when he was away from the walls of the mansion. He couldn't leave her behind with the rest of his life here.

"Would you like me to leave?" He immediately tensed at her voice. _That_ voice. It seemed that her words straddled verbal and mental. It wasn't telepathy, although she possessed the gift, he was sure of it, otherwise his shields would've alerted to the merest hint of her mind trying to enter his. She'd explained it to him once, before things had gotten all fucked up. She'd told him that sometimes, not all the time, a similar effect occurred with her people.

_"Remy got a question t' ask." He said softly, stroking her delicate, brown back as he did. She'd held her long, raven hair to one side with a silver comb, and lay across his lap to allow for the lavish treatment. They were comfortable on the carpet floor, him leaning back against the bed, encircled by sheets which had tumbled down with them somewhere in the course of events. His room left much to be desired, but then neither of them really cared whenever they were in there. "When you say t'ings, not de usual stuff, but... important stuff," he wasn't sounding all to eloquent, "you do dis... t'ing."_

_"What thing?" She mumbled, eyes closed, shifting just enough for him to feel her bare breasts move against him._

_"When y' talk t' me, it's like you're everywhere. I hear you wit' my ears, and wit' my mind. It's like, I'm de only person in de world dat you be talkin' to."_

_"Maybe you are." She said whimsically. Her lightheartedness suddenly seemed inappropriate in wake of the silence that followed. She moved up, not bothering with the sheet. Seriously: "Does it scare you?"_

_He regarded her contemplatively, his red on black eyes matching her infused, emerald green ones. "Maybe." He answered honestly._

_In that instant, she seemed hurt. "It happens sometimes... I didn't know if it could happen between us..." She paused. "There's no real explanation why, but after being together, there's a, connection. What you hear up there," She took his hand in hers, brought it to his temple, "is what is said in here." His hand came down with hers, resting on her chest. "I'm sorry, I've never heard of anyone being able to... turn it off. I should've warned you."_

_Remy brought a thumb her lips. "Don' worry, mon chouette. It's special, right?" She nodded, and he brought her face to his, planting a kiss on her cheek, which was interrupted by a salty tear. "Does it work both ways?"_

_"I don't know."_

"Non, jus' on my way out." He replied. He grabbed one of Logan's cold beers out of the fridge.

She didn't move as she watched him, trying to find something to say. Finally, she drew a breath and asked: "How're you doing?"

"Don'. Dis won' work, you an' me bein' friends." He gestured casually between them. It was an honest statement, there was too much history between them to just go back to 'being buddies'.

"Rem, I know I screwed up... royally, but..."

He shook his head, silencing her, and left.

_888_

Ororo left the war room, the heels of her shoes clanking against the metal floor. She was making her way to the elevator when the doors slid open. A smile graced her lips as Logan stepped through. "I was just on my way up to call you." Without a word, he brought his arm around her slender waist and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue slid past her lips, searching for and finding her own. The sudden burst of passion caught her off guard; she was as inept as a schoolgirl experiencing a first kiss. He pulled her in tight, the expression of need forcing her to bring her arms around him. Her fingers rested in his hair, getting lost in the thick mass. He pulled away from her, grinning at her satisfied features. "Milk." She whispered, eyes opening slowly.

There was a moment of silence. "Milk." His voice was flat. All the strength he could muster couldn't keep him from laughing. It wasn't a regular event, but when it happened, the deep, rumbling sound commanded attention to nothing but its own embellishment. "That ain't the response I'm used ta gettin' darlin'."

She laughed with him; a light and soothing tune that somehow seemed to compliment her partner in every way. "That is not the response I'm used to giving." Her lips brushed against his forehead, sending a mild chill through him. "But then," she said, the words breath filled, "I can never quite control myself around you."

Laughter could be heard from further down the corridor. They waited, and greeted Hank and Cecilia as they came into view. The casual 'hello's' were exchanged, and Cecilia informed them that she was on her way to a medical conference in Dubai. "I was trying to persuade this big lug to join me." She nudged at her blue companion. "But alas, he's refused my offer for a few days of sun filled fun."

"A bunch o' eggheads spitballin' 'bout medicine, followed by a couple o' margaritas on the beach. An' you'll be in the company of a good woman the whole time. What about this _isn't_ soundin' like Shangri-La to ya?" Logan asked Hank.

"I've said I'd consider it," the doctor grinned as he defended himself, "but circumstance has yet to allow me such freedoms." With a few last parting words, Cecilia left, leaving her best wishes with them.

"Tell me Henry, have you completed _his_ physical?" It was for this reason she'd been on her way to call Logan. They needed to hear the results together. Having their son race through infancy into adulthood had been a shock, to say the least. The pregnancy had progressed with much the same speed. Hank's initial tests had revealed that his cells metabolized at a rate that dwarfed Logan's own. The life that should've taken years to flourish, had taken mere weeks. If the cells continued at that rate...

Hank was puzzled. "I would've thought that you knew." He said, brow creased.

"Knew what?" Ororo asked.

_888_

Kai lowered himself through his room window, hitting the floorboards with less than a thud. He took the strap of his duffle from across his chest, and tossed the bag to one side. He began a slow walk to his bed, his shirt gliding across his rippled torso as he pulled it off. The button of his jeans was the next to be freed as he slid off the filthy sneakers that had carried him from the fight, down back alleys, and into clubs the night before. He was about to remove the denims that hung dangerously low, revealing the curved beginnings of the muscles they clung to, before he caught his reflection in the mirror. "Shit." He growled, moving closer and examining the bruises over his ribs, briefly noticing the sound of the school bus returning from its trip, and sidelining it. They looked worse than they felt, and they felt pretty bad. Adrenalin had stopped him from feeling the pain earlier, determination to get back had made him ignore it.

His attention shifted to the sounds of heavy footsteps in the hallway. He opened the door, bringing his head out just enough to see what was going on, and just long enough to have it grabbed and jerked by a large and familiar hand. Kai stumbled out, hitting the wooden wall across from his room. "What the hell are you playin' at?" Logan was not a happy man.

"I don't know what you're talking about, dad." Kai answered, composing himself.

He assessed his son, not sure where to start. "First you're gonna explain why you couldn't give a shit about turnin' up for your physical. Then you're gonna tell me when you started thinkin' it was alright ta sneak out, then haul yer ass back in here at noon in the mornin'."

"I didn't sneak..." He was cut off, glaring down at the arm pressed hard against his chest.

"You got a weeks worth o' cigarette, sweat an' booze on ya kid. Don't fucking play dumb with me." He snarled. "An' last, you're gonna tell me what the hell happened to ya."

Kai leant in close to his father. "Wow, that almost sounds like genuine concern." There was a thick tone of mockery. He pushed Logan away, his predatory stare finding its equal. Without a word, he made his way down the hallway to the ground floor.

"Hey." Logan called. "Hey, don't you walk away from me." He followed him down the stairs, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him once he'd caught up. By this time, a few members of the returned field trip had already found their way into the lounge area. This was irrelevant.

Kai moved in again, inches away and baring his teeth. "I don't have time for this!"

"Make time." Logan retorted, doing the same. Finally Kai moved back, raising his hands as though in defeat. "Where're you goin'?"

He said this as he walked back: "I'm gonna see a doctor about a physical." Then he turned, and continued to the elevator.

Logan turned to the growing group, grunting at Bobby's amused expression before stalking off. "Testosterone's so thick around here, I could skate on it." Bobby said to Rogue, removing his shades as the rest of the students came in.

_888_

Ororo walked into the infirmary, smiling as she met the eyes of her son. He appeared irritated, allowing Hank to do his work but not seeming very eager as he did. She stopped, arms folded, at the bed next to his own. "I am just about..." Hank paused as he scribbled a few notes on his clipboard, "done." He gathered the samples he had taken earlier on in the physical. "I'll have completed my analysis in the next few hours, then we'll have conclusive results."

"Thank you, Henry." Ororo said. He bowed slightly and looked between both of them, before heading to the lab. "So...?" She sighed.

"So?" Kai retorted in the same tone.

"Where were you last night?" She asked, moving across to his bed and seating herself.

"Not sure whether you noticed, but a school's not where anyone my age wants t' be on a Friday night." He looked down, watching both their feet dangle off the edge. "And you and the old man won't let me set foot outside, just incase I die while I'm out there." She winced at the mention of it. "Don't ya get it, mom? If I've only got a month left to live, I wanna be out there living," he gestured to the window, "not in here, dying."

"We understand. It's just, difficult for us." Ororo took a deep breath. "I will permit you to go out, as long as you tell either your father, or me, before you do." They were silent as she observed the bruises on his body. Simply: "What happened?"

"I met this girl. Then I met this guy, who was with the girl." He didn't need to explain any further. "Thanks." He said after a time. "For... you know." Silence again.

She leant to her side, and nudged his shoulder with hers, coupling the act with a curious expression.

"He's just such an asshole." Said Kai, knowing the words behind her look.

"He's your father."

"Doesn't stop him from being an asshole though, does it?"

"He loves you."

"Not enough."

"Maybe too much." She used her hand to gently turn his face to her. "He loves you." She said again.

He slid off the bed and made his way to the doors. They slid open as he stopped. Without looking at her: "Likewise." Kai left her there, going back to the upper levels. He contemplated the events that had transpired, grinning to himself as he did. He'd cleaned himself as best he could when the blood sport had ended. He'd gone to every club within ten blocks of his fight, toured eight pubs after that. He'd done everything he could think of to loose the scent of his opponents' blood. It must've worked. His father aside, his mother was an all too easy mark. However, there was one thing still causing him concern. "I'll have to do something about that." He said to himself.

_888_

"I've kinda got a question to ask." Lizzy said shyly. She'd gotten sidetracked midway through completing her sculpture. The three other students she sat with had requested extra art classes through the holiday, under the guise of extra credit; although the fact that it was a group of the quieter ones seemed to tell something in itself. Her teacher smiled, prompting her to continue. "I heard from some of the other students that... I guess I just wanted to know whether... Are you, magical?"

Xierra smiled at the girl of thirteen. Having classes outside of the studio seemed a good idea, until it had brought about a series of obscure questions, ones which she assumed were to wile away the time in the pleasant setting. She'd almost completed a painting of the sunset, streaking the canvas sky with pink and gold while adding shades of green to its floor. The brushes that painted, seemingly on their own, stopped. "Depends on what you think magic is. A hundred years ago, people might've said that this was magic." She said, taking the brushes into her hands.

"Yeah but I know that that's telekinesis." Lizzy slurred, her braces glinting. "It's just that, I heard that you... weren't just a mutant." The other students stopped molding, listening with interest. It had been spoken about for the past year, ever since an army of warrior women suddenly appeared in the institute's backyard, ready for battle. Little things like that tended to get people talking. "So like, what's the deal?"

A laugh escaped Xierra's lips as Lizzy caught herself being too casual. "The deal?" She repeated. "My mother came from a world beyond this one... an alternate plane of existence." Xierra elaborated. "People from this plane have had experiences with those from the other. Creatures come through accidentally, or intentionally, when the planes overlap and form gateways. Creatures like... Bigfoot."

"No way." Dean exclaimed. "What about the Loch Ness monster?"

Xierra nodded.

"Mermaids?" Lizzy asked.

She nodded again. "My mother was a Banshee, and so am I."

"What about Meyrin, the professors wife?" Lauren queried.

"Meyrin, is my grandmother, and she's a Banshee too."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "She can't be your grandmother, she's too young, and old." Her brow creased. "I mean, she's too young to be your grandmother but she's old enough to be the professor's wife." She finally smiled, having clarified herself.

"The Banshee don't age like human beings do. Days on Earth pass a lot faster than days on our world. She's pretty old in human years."

"How old?"

"Three hundred and fifty two... or three, I can't quite remember." The children's eyes widened.

"Will you get that old?"

Xierra looked up at the sky, closing her eyes. "I honestly don't know, sweetheart."

"But you can do cool stuff right? Like spells?" Lizzy again, eager to find out.

Xierra searched for a way to explain. Her eyes began to flame green as an unformed mass of clay lifted from the wooden board at her crossed legs. It blew apart, small balls of no more than a few centimeters hung in the air between her and her students. "Magic isn't quite like that. Think of these balls of clay as anything and everything, from a person, to animal, to planet.." A long, thin piece of wire threaded itself between them. "The wire represents the forces that bind and connect us. Magic, is the ability to feel, and understand the forces," the wire suddenly straightened and the balls moved together, "and bend them to your will." Lizzy's face stared back at her from the clay.

"So, if I practiced really hard, I'd be able to do magic?" The teen asked, taking the artwork.

"Maybe. To actively use those forces, every cell in your body has to be just as aware as your mind." She explained.

"How aware?"

Xierra took a scalpel from the board, and used it to cut a piece from a single strand of her hair. She then followed the strand to its root, and pulled it out. "Answer that question for yourself." She said, handing the strand to Lizzy. "Pack up and get ready for dinner, remember we're having it in the hall tonight. Class dismissed." As they gathered their things, she inspected the strand, suddenly deciding to tug at it. She tried again, attempting to break it. She gritted her teeth as she tried to pull the strand apart. Lizzy left with the rest of the class, preoccupied with it.

It was a welcomed end to the day. Xierra had managed to keep her mind away from the thousand thoughts that shaped her dreams, and nightmares. But then, there was always that one thought, that one person that she couldn't tear herself away from no matter how hard she tried. She'd felt her heart skip a beat earlier on, having gotten more words out of him then than she had in the past few months. Leaving a over a year ago was the only option she'd felt she'd had; an option that had destroyed her relationship. She left without a word to anyone, spent a year in the same fashion, and returned a changed woman to his, changed man. The life she'd lead in that time seemed all too distant now. _Was it worth it?_ She asked herself. Equipment packed, she made her way up the stone steps and into the mansion, following the winding root to the classrooms.

A shot of liquid filled her mouth as she rounded the corner. It was cold, bitingly so. Her body went limp. The bag and easel in either hand dropped to her sides as she met Kai's eyes. "Easy there." He whispered, catching her. "You really should take a look at the stash Hank's got in the infirmary, it's enough to make an addict, weep." Carefully, he lowered them both to the floor. "You and I, need to talk."

"Ms. McIntyre, I forgot to..." Lizzy covered her mouth as she turned the corner. "I am _so_ sorry." She blushed, spinning on her heel and running back.

"Well, ain't that some shitty luck?" He asked, propping her back against the wall. "I'll have to take care of that later. And you'll forgive my crude tactics, but I needed to be able to face you without expecting, anything really." With a deep and satisfying sigh, he closed his eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been avoiding me. I gotta tell ya, this isn't a good start to our relationship."

"..." Her breathing was laboured. Whatever the drug was, it clouded her mind and repressed any conscious connection she had with her abilities

"Keep tryin'." He reached into his back pocket and examined the label of the vial he now held up. "You should still be able t' talk. It might be a little tough on you though. Until then, I'm happy doing the talkin'." He shifted. "Did you enjoy the fight last night?" Her eyes searched the air. "Don't act coy, I saw you there. And somewhere, in all the excitement, I felt you there. It's times like those I admire what we share."

"... share nothing." She finally said. "You, evil."

He grinned. "You gettin' all traditional on me? Well, fine. So, I carry a pitchfork and you bear a halo? Doesn't change the fact that you and I were meant for each other. Meant to kill each other, true, but still meant for each other. The battle of good versus evil rages on. Gives you an odd sense of... purpose, doesn't it? Belonging. See, that's what you don't have here at the mansion. Of course, it's largely your fault; going around telling the world that I'm evil incarnate. Can't imagine that's earned you any brownie points."

"I'm only, telling, them, the truth."

"And how's that workin' for ya, angel?" He asked, flashing a smile so deceptively charming, even she was taken by surprise. "Until my head starts doing three-sixties, it's your word against mine. Allow me to let you in on a secret, that might make your life easier." Kai leant in. "Blood is _always_ thicker." He brought himself back. "You thought you caught a break. You thought Logan's dreams would give you the leverage you needed to convince him to join your side. A couple of nightmares about me going postal, just ain't gonna cut it. And Ororo? How did that conversation between the two of you pan out? _Well 'Ro, your son is the embodiment of all evil, created by an ancient and all consuming force. It's my job to put an end to his life, so you should really just let me get on with it._" He joked. "Seems like the only person in this world who believes you, is me. There's an odd sense of irony in it, isn't there?" Kai got to his feet, and searched her bag. He took out four bottles of paint, and began spreading the contents on the walls and floor.

"What... what are you, doing?"

"Manipulation, is the surest form of control." He used his forearm to smear blue higher up on the walls. "It's a lesson I learned before I was born." He knelt down to her and dipped his fingers into the bottle of red. He ran them along the side of her face, down her neck, and ended between her exposed breasts. "Kids talk. The drug'll run its course and knock you out soon, but in the mornin', you'll catch my drift." He decorated her arms, ran along her thighs, and succeeded in creating half the illusion. Next, he coated himself. "I'll be honest here," Kai began, scooping her into his arms once he was done, "I do want something from you." He carried her down the hall, up the stairs and to his room. "It's a small thing really." While setting her down on the bed, he made certain to get as much paint on the sheets as possible. "You and I, share the same power from the same life force, yet somehow, I _just_ can't seem to get to it."

"Ain't that some shitty luck." She would've grinned if her body had the strength.

"Cute." He removed her top, considered before removing her bra. "Now I am sick and goddamn tired of pittin' myself against dead end, nine-to-fivers, just so that I can trigger the powers that you've already got. So I started thinking: The only connection I do have to this force, is through you." He unbuttoned her jeans, moving them across her hips and sliding them down her legs. "I could spend years learning how to master what you already know. I could, but I won't." In the moments before he continued, he let his eyes drift over her body, a growl instinctively emanating as he did. Moving back up slowly, he brought his hands to either side of her head. "I want, what's in here, and you're going to give it to me. And after you do," low and fierce: "I'm gonna go play."

* * *

_To Be Continued..._

_A/n: The last post I made of Xierra series was a while ago, so I've thrown in back story here and there. This chapter basically establishes a base for the rest of the fic. Still searching for the rest of my series so that I can repost the revised versions. Until then, please enjoy my take on a misguided, sociopathic, X-spawn. (Ain't they the best kind.)_


	2. Chapter 2: Logan Knows Best

_**The Weight of the World...**_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original X-men characters.

Continuity: **Xierra Series** post '9 Months in a Day'.

Characters: Ensemble X-men

_Unbelievable_ by EMF available on the their album of the same name

* * *

_Most of the evils of life, arise from man's being unable to sit still in a room._

_-Blaise Pascal_

"Stop it." Gina said, not taking her eyes from the large, flat screen in the rec room as Dean threw small bits of popcorn her way.

"What are you gonna do about it?" He teased, continuing to throw one piece at a time.

"I mean it you little brat!" She turned to look at him. "Stop."

"Make me."

They stared at each other for brief seconds before each displayed a knowing expression. She flung the remote control to one side as she bolted for him, clearing the coffee table in an easy jump. He tossed the popcorn to one side and headed for the door, sliding as he turned the corner and sped away from his attacker. Kai dropped his head back and took a deep breath, having grown steadily bored of the DVD that played, and the childishness with which he'd been surrounded. He would've taken off earlier, but Ororo and Logan seemed adamant that he stay, just for tonight. He wasn't sure what possessed him to obey, but he did. With seemingly great effort, he rose and dropped onto the previously occupied couch, grabbing the remote and proceeding to flip through a hundred channels of nothing. He turned to face the door, midway between flipping to the thirty-third channel on his list.

"You busy?" Logan asked, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah. I'm studying the social behavioural patterns of _plasmatronus flatscreenus_." He glared. "What do you think?"

"Get up. It's time I teach ya the facts of life."

_888_

"Fact number one: Behind every good man, is a better woman. Between them however, is a good bar." Logan said, lifting his beer as he did. He'd brought Kai to Harry's Hideaway. Patrons littered the bar at the usually quiet hour. Men at the pool tables, parties tucked away in the far booths, barely memorable music escaped the jukebox. Smoke, alcohol, and salted peanuts. He watched as his son received his own drink. "It falls ta me t' teach ya to be a man, and you got a lot o' catchin' up ta do. After all, you're gonna be here a while."

Kai feigned surprise. "So, I won't be turnin' into an old man anytime soon."

Logan shook his head. "You got the insides of a newborn pup, an' yer cells are as normal as mine." He halted. "Well, you know what I mean."

"Insides of a newborn pup?" He mimicked. "Guess that makes me healthier than you, old man."

"Yeah, yeah. It ain't no mean feat, I'll give ya that." Logan laughed, responding to Kai's cocky smirk.

"Does Hank know why?" He asked, the question causing his father to raise a brow. "Does Hank know why I don't have the X gene, even though you and mom do?" The question had crossed Logan's mind more times than he could count, but he'd never heard it come from Kai.

"No." He answered, pursing his lips. "Wish he did. Maybe it'd explain a few things about why your cells kicked it into high gear, then suddenly decided on cruise control."

"Does it disappoint you that I don't have the gene? That I'm not like you?"

"Hey." Logan grabbed the back of his son's neck; brought him in. "Don't you ever fuckin' think that, you got me?" His eyes were deadly serious. "You think I give a shit that you ain't a mutant? You're my flesh an' blood, an' that's all I'm ever gonna need t' know." Again: "You got me?"

Kai felt the gravity in his voice, and though the last words may have seemed a threat to a passerby, it was an affirmation for him alone. He nodded, pulling himself free of the large hand before taking a swig of his beer. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ He asked himself, fighting back the lump in his throat.

"What happened last night?" Logan asked, feeling a change of topic was in order.

"What do you mean." The question was honest enough, since he hadn't been paying attention.

"Heard the art kids were cleanin' up a paint spill outside the studio this mornin'," he began, "which is normal enough, 'til I find out that the same paint somehow landed on you, an' Xierra, an' yer sheets."

Kai had only realised the threat Logan's senses posed to his cover-up that morning. It was easy enough to trick the rest of the mansion into believing that he'd slept with the woman, but if Logandidn't smell it, he wouldn't believe it. The whole thing had been a ploy, a clever rouse to discredit his archenemy should she ever find someone who might believe her wild accusations; he couldn't fumble the opportunity. Luck, however, had worked in his favour. Xierra had left his room and the mansion, at the crack of dawn, seemingly guilty to the few who saw her. He'd found out an undisclosed errand had sent his father away for the night and most of the day, apparently having returned half an hour before inviting him out. It had given him the time he needed to do the sheets discreetly... but not too discreetly, and air out his room. He'd need to steer Logan away for another day or so; the lack of scent had to be plausible.

"Guess you don't need t' teach me how to be a man." He said, bringing the bottle up as he eyed the waitress that served a near booth. "Things happen." With a shrug.

"I don't expect 'em t' happen with a woman that despises ya."

"Passion is passion, doesn't matter what emotion it comes with." He said. The waitress smiled at him as she passed, and he reciprocated with a wink as he bit his lower lip.

"Keep it in yer pants." Logan smacked the back of his head. "Jesus, you're worse than the Cajun."

"Give the kid a break." Harry said, fitting his apron. He waved off the early shift that was leaving. "Or are you forgetting that you aren't exactly a saint yourself?" Kai laughed at his father's silence as he rubbed the back of his head. "And you would be?" Harry asked, extending a hand.

"Name's Kai." He answered, accepting it. "This here's my old man." Gesturing to Logan.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "No shit." He looked between them.

"What, you think this good lookin' mug couldn't have anythin' t' do with him?" Logan turned his head one way, then the other, mockingly.

"That's exactly what I fucking think." He laughed, slapping down a cloth and wiping the counter. A thoughtful look suddenly crossed his bulbous features. "You know, you look kinda like a woman who comes in here with your dad an' his lot. White hair, blue eyes, dark skin."

The statement would seem fairly obvious to most in his position, facing a young man, with white hair, grey eyes, and dark skin. "That'd be 'cause she's my mother," he paused, "and I'll take that as a compliment."

"Do so." He said earnestly, between a rather amusing expression of shock at the lineage. "Real looker, real lady. What the hell does she see in you?" He joked with questioning eyes fixed on Logan.

"I ask myself the same damn question." He took another swig of his favourite brand. The bartender looked at the emptying bottles, threw the cloth over his shoulder, and moved to the fridge to replace the beverages. The jukebox skipped to a different song.

_You burden me with your questions  
You'd have me tell no lies  
You're always asking what it's all about_

"You two are going to move." A deep voice from behind. Logan and Kai turned together, and met with a large man; heavy around the midsection, leather clad. They tilted their heads to peer around him, assuming this was the leader of the growing biker gang that entered. They looked to each other, shrugged, and turned back. "Me an' my pack ride together, we drink together."

"Sure you do a lot more together too." Kai said under his breath, hunching over the beer. Logan chuckled, having caught what the ogre hadn't.

"Place's big enough fer all of us, bub." Logan said, watching as Harry returned the brewskis to the fridge.

_Now listen to my replies  
You say to me I don't talk enough  
But when I do I'm a fool_

"Yeah, but the bar isn't. Now you and your girlfriend, get lost." He dropped a paw on Kai's shoulder.

"You need to seriously consider moving that hand." He said, raising a brow to it. Harry was now lowering the expensive alcohols from their spots on the shelves, and placing them under the bar counter. Logan had thought about removing his son from the danger of the impending brawl, but in that single sentence, he realised that he wasn't going to. There was confidence there, without a trace of fear. He wasn't sure just how positive that was, but he knew he had to let it play out for different reasons.

"You don't wanna mess with us." The brute said, gesturing to his buddies behind him. Harry appeared from the back, broom and scoop in hand.

_These times I've spent, I've realized  
I'm going to shoot through  
And leave you_

"I was just about to say the same thing." Kai lifted his hand at the poised fist, draining the last of his drink. "You just about done, dad?" Logan grinned, tipping an empty bottle. The kinsman stood, facing the leader.

"You boys have fun." The biker said snidely.

_The things, you say  
Your purple prose just gives you away  
The things, you say..._

"Oh, we will." The duo toasted with empty bottles.

_...You're unbelievable..._

They slammed either side of the giant's head, green glass shattering. The overweight man dropped as Logan took on two goons, punching the first square between the eyes, and sweeping his elbow to the jaw of the next. Kai brought a knee to the fallen man's face, and caught the arm of the next assailant. He grabbed at the leather jacket as well, spinning the biker and throwing him into the wall of a nearby booth. He smiled at the three ladies, apologizing.

_I'm always so concerned  
With the way you say,  
You've always go to stop  
To think of us being one  
Is more than I ever know_

Kai saw his father grab another attacker, eyes met as he did the same. The gang members felt the wind get knocked out of them as they were hurled at each other, backs first. Father and son held the barely conscious faces in one hand, before slamming their heads together. Logan ducked a poorly executed swing, levered the man over his back, and into the glass shelves behind the bar. Kai crouched below a punch, and rose to lay an upper cut on an exposed chin. Too late his old man saw him flung onto the green felt of the pool table by two guys. Kai reached for a cue, finding one, and striking a collared jugular. The overhead lamp swung wildly as they fought, a final head butt deciding the snowy haired victor.

_The things, you say  
Your purple prose just gives you away..._

Kai watched as his father took a tumbler to the cheek. The mutant was pissed, cricking his neck as the torn flesh healed. He turned to the stunned man, and growled with such voracity that the attacker passed out. Kai caught the site of a threat to his left, ducked, and used a wooden triangle to slap the side of the small man's head. They both looked down at the weapon, having achieved far from its desired effect. A bronze hand raced up, and slammed the guy's head against the wall, knocking him out cold. He grabbed the black eight-ball from the table, and threw it to his father. It sailed across the room at a slow spin, finding its intended mark. In a single, fluid motion, Logan snatched the ball from the air, pivoted, and drove it straight into the unsuspecting forehead of the last conscious biker.

_You're unbelievable._

Gathering glass could be heard in the silence as the jukebox changed its tune. The patrons watched, speechless. Harry lifted his head from behind the bar, placing a scoop full of shattered fragments on the counter, and readying a plastic bag to collect more. "Should I send the bill to the usual address then?"

_888_

_Knock. Knock._

"Professor." Ororo called from behind the door. Finally, she sauntered in, just as he reached for his temples. "Professor, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ororo." He smiled, unconvincingly. "Please, sit." He moved himself from behind his desk, coming to her side.

"I apologize. I realise that it's late but I felt that I needed to speak with you." She ran a hand through her white locks, her gaze drifted across to the tall windows facing out to the east, stars twinkling amidst a dark sky. "Kai's lab results came back. He's going to be alright."

Charles smiled again, the honesty that was once absent, now present. "Congratulations."

She nodded, accepting it. "However, I would like to discuss another matter with you." Ororo paused. "Xierra." The professor did not seem to take much from the mention of her name. "Are you aware of what has recently transpired between her and my son?"

"What has _allegedly_ transpired." Charles stressed.

"He has admitted to it." Their eyes locked as the meaning of his words, dawned on her. "You do not believe him." A statement, not a question.

He shook his head. Something had changed him in the last few months. Charles seemed a tired man, even though he was gaining some progress with government dealings for mutants. The school was taking on new and eager pupils, and it seemed that its reputation was growing within the ranks of the mutant population. Finally, others were beginning to recognise and appreciate the headway they were making, and trust it enough to place their children in his care. Mutants were being given the chance at an education, absent of fear. Yet still... "It's not that, Ororo."

"Then what is it?" Her defensiveness was clear.

"The entire relationship between the two, it is... delicate."

"Professor, you cannot seriously believe her accusations about Kai?" Her face expressed her amazement. "It is too ridiculous to even consider." She stood, and knelt once she was at his side. "Charles, she is becoming mentally unstable; her actions are proving that. Coupled with her abilities and her hate for Kai, her powers pose a serious threat to my son." He looked down at her. "I say this out of concern, for all involved." She thought back to her first days with the woman in question. "She and I were friends, once. But with the hate she expresses for my child, my family." Ororo sighed.

"Do not forget that Xierra is _my _family." He said, thumbing the gold band on his finger. "Meyrin has entrusted me with her safe keeping. She has my protection."

"Does she have your support also?"

"I believe that she believes." Simply. He took Ororo's hand in his own. "You have my vow that I will protect Kai from harm, from anyone. And I will speak with Xierra." He leant over and kissed her hair. "More than that I cannot give you."

She nodded, and stood. Her next thought was to leave, but it was interrupted by another thought, and with it, she knelt back down. "How are you, Charles?" Voice soft, gentle.

"She won't let me in." Her questioning look prompted him to continue. "I have tried to communicate with Meyrin, but she won't have me. There have been brief moments, where she floods my mind and bathes it in seas of loving emotion, but just as quickly she pulls away." He closed his eyes. "I have never felt so powerless, Ororo. Her ability to wield magics overrides my ability to astral project. I know that she wishes to assure me of her well-being but... Aside from those moments, all I know of her is what Xierra tells me."

"Is she alright?"

"She's at war. I believe the term, 'alright' can never truly apply in such times." He drew in a deep breath. "We've gained families, you and I both. Sometimes I wonder what it might be like, to leave all of this behind and focus on _my_ life, living to the full what's left of it."

"We need you here, with us."

"I know. It's just idle musing." He was dismissive, and unconvincing. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you, Ororo. I've had a long day and am in desperate need of a good sleep."

She kissed his forehead. "Of course. Pleasant dreams, Charles." He smiled and made his way out of the office.

The conversation had left her feeling uneasy. Charles Xavier had always been focused and determined; these were traits that lead him to become such a formidable man. But his manner had lead her to believe that his focus was now wavering. It was understandable, that he might crave a life away from fighting for the cause, however noble it may be. All of the X-men had felt that at some point or another. She pondered on this as she walked back to her room, and finally decided that it was too much to think on so late at night. She'd already caught the scent of him, nearing to their room. "You boys have a nice night?"

"I think our ideas of 'nice', differ a little." Logan grinned, removing his shirt. He'd come in not too much earlier and hadn't bothered to turn on any of the lights, though the moon had compensated for that. He continued to undress, feeling her eyes on him as he did. "But we did alright."

"I would not have expected the two of you to bond any differently. You know," Ororo unclipped her hair; cascades of soft white curls hit her mocha shoulder, "you and I haven't done much bonding lately." The strap of her dress, accidentally slid down her shoulder, revealing the gentle curve of her cleavage.

He turned, having picked up her scent. "No, we haven't." She slowly etched closer, each step predatory. "So what're we gonna do about that?"

Her eyes took him in shamelessly as she circled her lover. "I could think of a few things."

"I could think of a few more." He grinned, arousal steadily rising. With a speed masked by his bulk, he brought his hands to her pert rear, and lifted her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around him, revealing that her womanhood was bare, ready and waiting. "Always prepared." He growled. Logan moved them against the wall, giving him a chance to enter her. She clawed at his back as he slipped in, biting his neck to stifle her cries.

Her eyes moved up, catching their reflection in the full length mirror to the far wall behind him. White hair draped across his healing back, and her slender limbs clung hungrily to him. She caught her own eyes, suddenly shocked at the black pools that stared back at her. Ororo felt herself grin, but couldn't be sure she'd commanded the action; the same could be said of her sudden shift of the weather. Though at first, the loss of control scared her, she began to enjoy it. The veins in her hands became prevalent, and they began to pulsate with black liquid, faster as Logan's thrusts deepened and the sky outside raged. She took in the erotic scene before her, her expression baring a cold and villainous air that had only shown itself at one time in her life. The freedom she felt, unmistakable. The ecstasy that engulfed her, inescapable.

Violence

Greed

Hate

Hunger

Lust

Passion

Pain

..._She_ was back.

* * *

_A/n: Ladies and gentlemen, it is with a proud tear in my eye, that I give you the return of my, DarkStorm._


	3. Chapter 3: Interim

_**The Weight of the World...**_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original X-men characters.

Continuity: **Xierra Series** post '9 Months in a Day'.

Characters: Ensemble X-men

_Hakkotsu-San and Ajari Joan are from Japanese mythology. Wiki- them with pleasure :)_

* * *

_The only difference between saints and sinners, is that every saint has a past, while every sinner has a future._

_-Oscar Wilde_

Trees towered above the life-rich, forest floor; their green tops creating a perfect canopy, and blocking out the otherwise blood-red sky. Roots reached over and around the bases of the towering columns, intertwined with moss and decorated with large green leaves and strikingly hued plants. Blues, yellows and violets coloured the different species of flora, the palette aided by the green that defined the hanging vines. The air was still and light, but eerily quiet. Bare feet dug into the moist soil, stepping gracefully over the familiar terrain and finding a slight clearing. Xierra looked around her, and smiled contently at the setting. It had been her hideaway for months now, removing her from the outside world and comforting her when she needed it the most. Sanity was encapsulated by this Amazonian haven.

"I've got to hand it to you, you've got one hell of an imagination." The man behind her mused. "Its always more fun moving through your mind, than it is moving through mine." He stepped next to her, meeting her emerald green eyes with his own of the same colour.

"That statement would be mildly disturbing if... No, it _is _mildly disturbing." She joked. "Remember that you're a guest, so you can't just start kicking back here and taking vacations whenever you feel like it." She raised her brow quizzically, summing up her companion. He wore a deep blue kimono, built arms exposed, and his jet-black hair had been brought back into an imperfect samurai style. "You're looking awfully, eastern."

He looked down. "That's because I, would be _the_ most recent visitor to the mountain Hakkotsu-San."

"You met with Ajari Joan?" She asked, wide eyed. "The Praying Priest? Wow, I'm impressed, big brother. Not many make it to him... not many want to."

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures." His expression became sullen. "I've been across our world, gathering allies, but it seems the promise of a life of good, doesn't invoke the same kind of solidarity that it used to. The Upir, Wraith, the Lycanthrope, they've banded together and started their own recruitment program. Unfortunately, they're getting pretty good at it."

She ran a hand through her hair. "How many soldiers?"

"Three hundred thousand in the first wave alone." His deep tone only compounded the number. "Meyrin is having trouble holding them at the far borders. And there's something else." He looked down at her, watching as she stabbed her toe in the wet earth. "They know about him." Placing a hand on her cheek, he turned her to him. "They fight in his name. What happened, sis? Last time we spoke, he didn't even know how to activate his powers, let alone communicate across gateways."

"Noa..." She turned away. "He ripped what he needed to do just that, from me. I was caught off guard... he stole my knowledge and experience; the triggers for my abilities." She'd been dreading this conversation, but it needed to be said. "I called you here, to warn you that,"

"It's open season?" He finished.

"He's stronger than I am, Noa."

"Bullshit." He sing-songed, brow furrowed in mock seriousness. "There's no way that's even possible. You share the same life force, and yeah, it's pretty powerful, but it's still split down the middle. You're only as strong as he is, and vice versa." She shrugged. "You're just being a wuss."

"What? I'm not a wuss." She punched his arm, causing him to rub the sore spot. "Some people are actually pretty scared of me."

"Who?" Sarcastically. "Joking, joking." He said, lifting his arms in defeat. "Ouch, that actually hurts." Noa exclaimed, rubbing the spot again.

Xierra raised a knowing brow. "Yeah, remember that. You may be a king, but I reserve the right to take you down a peg or two." She sighed. "Another sign of the Ben Sídhe confidence in me."

"Well, maybe they were thinking about sparing you the added pressure of ruling, on top of everything else. Besides, you don't think I make a good king?" He added, over-acting a shot to the heart.

She nudged him playfully. "You know what I mean. Every ruler has been a daughter, since the start of our civilisation. I guess they weren't all too sure that I'm going to live long enough to do anything other than fight. But, in all honesty, you make a better king than I would've ever made a queen." With an honest smile, she kissed his cheek. "But that isn't saying much." She laughed.

"Who the hell are they anyway? I mean, they don't know everything." He said, trying to comfort her.

"Actually, they, do. It's all written down in that silver book that's been passed through the family. You know, the one with the prophecy and the predictions of future events. Barring the outcome of the whole 'good versus evil' battle, they pretty much wrote down everything. You becoming king, me doing... whatever I'm supposed to be doing."

Noa searched the setting for a moment. "Damnit woman, I'm trying to make you fell better here."

"Sorry." She smiled. "I promise that I'll let you make me feel better next time."

"Good." He nodded. "But seriously, I think that we can handle it." He looked up at the canopy, thinking back into their conversation. "It's a scary thought, but all that separates the two of you, is your minds. He's not stronger than you Zee, but if you let him screw around up here," Noa pointed to her temple, "you'll think that he is." She nodded in response. "Don't let it get to that. Promise me, that whatever's happening, you've got it covered. You're one of the strongest people I know, and if he pushes, you'd better be pushing back, hard."

Xierra smiled, thankful for her brother's words. "As long as you promise me the same."

_888_

The mess hall was far from its usual, bustling self in the summer holidays but it still had a cozy atmosphere. Shafts of sunlight streamed in through the high windows, warming the hall and bathing it in a golden glow. Most of the breakfast crowd of students were still there an hour and a half on, having nothing really pressing to tend to, if at all. The remaining spread of food in the center table was nothing spectacular, but good nonetheless with toast, bacon, eggs, cheese and fresh fruit. Containers of cereal and jugs of milk shared the spot on the end of the table. As if oblivious to the goings-on around her, Xierra sat on her own, staring ahead blankly. Rogue took a seat in front of her, followed by Bobby, who waved his hand in front of her eyes in an attempt to get a response.

"Hi guys." Xierra beamed, suddenly blinking.

"You have no idea how creepy you look doing that." Bobby said, polishing a bright red apple before taking a bite. "By the way, what exactly was that?"

"Long distance call." She answered, setting her unused plate to one side.

Rogue gestured for the apple, which he volunteered. "How's the connection?" The southern spitfire joked, handing back the fruit once she'd taken a bite.

"Good. I've got a great long distance provider." Xierra wasn't sure what had brought their company, but god knows she needed it. "Noa sends his regards. Oh, and Rogue, he asks that you give back his heart when you're done with it." She added, grin firmly in place.

Without realising it, she'd run her hand through her brown and white hair, grabbing just enough of it to allow the silky mane to fall seductively about her face. Her lips had turned up in a barely there smile. Bobby rolled his eyes. "He's in another dimension, and somehow he still manages to master flirting with you."

"What're you talkin' about, Bobby? He's jus' bein' sweet." She said, catching herself. "How is, his majesty, anyway?"

"Busy, but good."

"Bobby!" Peter clapped a large hand on his friends shoulder. "We are rounding up troops for a game of football. Are you interested?" Movement could be seen behind him, as a lot of the male students followed Scott after a few brief words from him. He tossed the egg-shaped ball from one hand to another as they marched out into the day.

"Why the hell not?" The young man shrugged, noticing the weight of the friendly paw.

"Are you ladies in?" Peter asked. It was clear that this wasn't going to be a game of touch football, and the question might seem out of place if it weren't directed at the two proverbial 'fortified women' of the team, who sat just there.

"Ah don' know, Peter. Ah think Ah'll be happy ta just watch." She looked back at Xierra, who nodded in agreement. With that, the three of them stood and made their way outside. The guys were already beginning to sort themselves into teams as they reached the stone steps. Bobby smoothed down Rogue's hair, and kissed the spot gently, letting his own gloved hand slide down her cheek and over her lips. The tenderness of the gesture was not lost on her, but she did feel a slight shot of pain as he removed his gloves, and left them in her care. She lingered on a single thought as she watched him and Peter jog off to join the others.

The day couldn't be more perfect; a poster for the normality that the institute enjoyed on increasing occasion. The rest of the school had come out to enjoy the game, students and teachers littering the stairs and grass. Jean waved a hand to the two of them, motioning for them to join her and Betsy. "You go ahead, I'll join you in a moment." Xierra said, eyes drifting to the far side of the field, at the boundary of trees. Accepting the statement, Rogue left to join the others.

Kai lay on his stomach, eyes closed, arms cushioning his head. He couldn't help but smile, enjoying the warmth that caressed his naked body. He wasn't sure why, but he'd felt the need to savour the day in all of its beauty, by responding in kind. He'd found a quiet little place just off the field, behind a boundary of trees. It was as far as he was willing to go, and he couldn't really care much who stumbled across him anyway. The night before had drained him. He'd left his father in the kitchen, explaining that he needed to, "hit the sack" and leaving to do that. Or so Logan believed. He hadn't quite been in the mood to sleep off the high that he'd felt, fighting side by side with his old man, and found his way back to the biker gang. They wouldn't be bothering either of them anymore... or anyone else for that matter. Yes, last night _had_ been fun.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

His smile widened. "What, no flowers, no first date?" He felt familiar cloth fall over his lower half. "Aw, yer just no fun." With some effort, he opened his eyes and sat up, tying his mother's African print sarong around his waist at Xierra's unspoken request. "To what do I owe the pleasure, angel?"

"You did something last night. I felt a strong shift in power." She folded her arms. "What did you do that would require that amount of energy?"

He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips quizzically, pretending to search hard for an answer. "Can't say I have any idea of what yer talkin' about. I came home, passed out; ask Logan if ya don't believe me."

"I don't." She turned her back to him, watching the game that played out in the distance. "You may have them fooled now, but they'll eventually see what you are, I'll make sure of that."

Kai laughed; a sound so infectiously cold, she had to grip her sides at the absence of any other comfort. "Them?" He asked, gesturing to the field. "They, are idiots! They couldn' see the clues if they'd been gift wrapped, tagged, an' stapled t' the side of their heads." He shouted, bowled over by the mere idea. "God, they are so caught up in the idea o' bein', normal, that they covet anything and anyone who is, without question. Even the resident genius has accepted the fact that I have no X-gene, case closed. Wouldn' he be shocked ta find out that I'm more powerful than any of 'em." He walked over to her. "Humanity is caged by its own conceit. A race so driven by an affirmation of self, that it hampers any advancement truly worth having. We're made of more than can be tested in lab, or viewed under a microscope, but they'll never realise that."

"You're one to speak of conceit." She shot, turning around and facing him. "Seems you're forgetting that they've brought you to where you are. They've welcomed you, nurtured you, loved you." Faint tendrils of pure, green flame lit the corners of her eyes, falling across her temples.

"I don't _need_ their love, anymore 'n I _need_ the dirt on my feet. An' I'm not one t' confuse sincerity, with naivety." He quipped. "Simmer down, angel. You know that ya can't fight me until the time is right." Kai lifted a hand to her face, which she recoiled from. She shut her eyes tight, the flames slowly subsiding. "That's better."

"They're the best thing that'll ever happen to you, and more than you deserve." Xierra spat.

"Yer so wrong. They're the worst thing that could happen t' me, followin' a dream that's destined fer failure. They deny themselves, an' want fer lives they'll never have. I'm lucky not t' have fallen into that nightmare. Me, I want fer nothin'."

She studied his eyes, and all that lay behind them. Grinning: "I don't believe you." Had she not turned so suddenly, she would've caught the momentary lapse in his calm demeanor. As far as she was concerned, their powwow was over.

Kai caught up to her, grabbing her arm and wrapping his own across her chest as he stood behind. He brought his face in, his stubbled cheek hard pressed against her smooth one. "You on the other hand, I know exactly what ya want, with every fiber of your being... or should I say, who." He said, holding onto her as she tried to break from his grip. "A blind man could see how you lust after him, steal a look when you don' think he's watchin'. Ya think about him, dream about him, and everyday it eats away at ya a lil' more, that he'll never want you again." She stopped struggling, instead setting her eyes on the auburn haired running back as he congratulated Warren. "But it doesn't have to be that way; all it takes is a single thought an' you can make yerself happy." Whispering: "There's nothing wrong with making yourself happy."

She winced, hating herself for indulging in the thought, even if only for a moment. The players reset themselves. "Yes there is, when it comes at the expense of his free will. I won't do that to him. I'd rather be alone for the rest of my life."

"It could be a very long life, why spend it alone?" He moved a strand of her hair back with his lips. "I suppose it's fer the best." He said lightly, though coupled with a sigh. "After all, his teeth will yellow, his burning eyes will loose their sight, his hair will grey and probably fall out. He'll break a few bones, just for good measure... maybe a hip or two. An' his powers will fade, an' his body will wither, an' all you'll be left with is dust. But you and I, we'll remain as we are until that fateful day... But what if we chose not to fight against each other?" The question seemed more for himself than for her, but still, her brow creased at the words. "What if we chose, to simply live our lives?"

"We can't. It's not what we were made for." A breeze drifted through the grounds.

"What can our keepers do? To force us to fight, would be to interfere; an act which they vowed to never carry out." He sensed her reluctance, another display of their empathic link. An urge to pull her close to him took over. "Can't you see? Good and evil compliment, co-exist. One can't be without the other. Why should it be any different for us? We could do whatever we wanted, answerable to no one." He brought her around, cradling her face in his hands, oblivious to the housemates that began to take shelter from the growing wind. "We're the only two of our kind, halves of a life force so powerful it had to be shared." Black liquid flowed through his veins, spreading to his eyes and joined only by a dark variation of the green flame he'd seen from her.

"Let go of me." She whispered, the scene sending her own defenses flaring as she grabbed his wrists. "Let go of me, now."

Seemingly oblivious to her order, he continued. "Imagine, calling on such a force with nothing more than a whim. Imagine what we could be. Imagine, what _I,_ could be." His voice mutated, fierce, demonic, a shell of what it had once been. The same black veins etched from his darkening lips, rivaled in spectacle only by the protruding jaw bones that framed his now unrecognizable face. His grip on her tightened as he drew near. "So close, I can taste it." One moment of weakness on her part, would be all he needed to convert her.

Fear gripped Xierra, having finally met the true face of her destined enemy. But in the moments of time, stilled by him, she lost herself in his fixation for power. Her body felt the concentration of energy that spawned between them, inexorably converging on that single point. "Demon."

"No... god." His lips were but a breath away, aching for the single touch that would bring her to him.

He was ripped from where he stood, a bright flash of emerald unmistakable to the few eyes that watched from the mansion. Xierra broke from her trance, using her abilities to ensnare his limbs in the roots she summoned. She raised herself into the air, gliding to where he lay. "Give it your best shot, I dare ya. Send your armies; you've just given me all the encouragement I need to decimate every last regiment."

"And I'm sure you could." He shouted, relishing the rain that fell from the clouded sky. "But you're forgetting one thing." He laughed, paying no attention to the bonds that held him down. Thunder boomed from above, shattering the windows of the institute's first floor. "Just who's got my back."

* * *

_A/n: This was written as an interim piece to the story. I realised that I hadn't done enough characterization for Xierra, or enough interaction between her and Kai, and this was about the only point that I could afford to do it because the rest of the story is pretty much about Logan, Ororo, and Kai. Yay, now I get to the next chapter. _


	4. Chapter 4: Once Upon a time

_**Weight of the World**_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original X-men characters

_Authors note: Almost all of the mythical creatures depicted in this series can be researched, although I did take some creative liberties with some of them. In fact I suggest it if anyone fancies, it's like delving into a whole new world ;)_

* * *

_'Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of children.'  
- William Makepeace Thackeray_

A single bolt of lightning tore white-hot through the sky and straight into Xierra's back, sending her careening into the clearing behind Kai. The left side of her body had been burned, charred by the intensity of the bolt's heat. He pulled free of the roots and vines that held him, now having lost their connection to their master. As he turned to make his way over to her, Xierra saw Ororo drift down from the sky above him. The simple yet striking blood red dress that she wore made her seem almost surreal in contrast to the deep grey of the clouds behind her. Even with her white hair dancing wildly across her face, Xierra could make out the black pools that masked her once sapphire blue eyes.

"No." Xierra whispered, a tear rolling down the exposed flesh of her face as the gravity of what was happening, hit her.

Kai stalked toward her and sat at her side. "Yes." He whispered. He glanced at Ororo then fixed himself back on Xierra. "Sorry about that angel, but you know how protective mothers can be." He laughed. "You know, your fighting spirit is one of the things I admire about you but every now and again it just plain pisses me off." Kai wiped a tear from her unharmed cheek, then moved his hand over the other side of her face, flesh slowly healing as he held it there. "Ssshhh."

Speech became easier as her tongue and mouth were reformed, healed as though they had never suffered injury. "Let her go Kai. Don't trap her like this."

"You know a pledge can't work any other way but by her own choice." The winds around them died down as they spoke.

"One that she will never have the freewill to reconsider." Xierra looked up at Ororo, floating behind her son as a hauntingly beautiful sentry.

He moved his hand down as his magic mended her, his eyes glowing with a tainted green light. "Why are you so determined to follow the eons old words of some crazy sage? We're the avatars of the forces that created everything that has ever been and will be. We serve none." His eyes burned into her own. "But we could rule all. Why fight against each other, fight over this power, when we could wield it together?"

"Because that would mean enslaving countless peoples. Deciding the hopes and freedoms of all those I was created to protect. No one, no mortal should ever have that power."

Kai stopped, his eyes returning to normal. "I'm not so sure we are." He stood, looking down at her half healed form. The storm had passed and not a cloud could be seen above them. The sun shone down on the institute and it's grounds and the birds could be heard chirping in the nearby trees. A deceptive calm that only one of them seemed to enjoy. "If _they_ are what is stopping you, allow me to remove them from this equation." He took a deep breath and savoured the sun. "I'll slaughter them all." He said softly.

"No!" She shouted, watching helplessly as he walked deeper into the wood. Ororo followed him, floating regally in his wake. She looked back at Xierra before both of them disappeared through the tree line. Xierra screamed into the air, finding herself unable to do anything else. The pain her body felt was a distant second to the realization that she had spurned on the genocide she had come back to the mansion to prevent. On her world, her family and her people had been working tirelessly to form allegiances that would hopefully stamp out the uprising that had started in the name of 'The Demon Son'. In Kai's name. Her task had been to watch him, hopefully guide him and stop him from realising what his power made him capable of.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even recognize the man that had found her and cradled her in his arms.

"_Mon chouette_." He rocked slowly as he tried to calm her, finding he could do nothing else as sobs racked her body. When he'd ventured out for a walk earlier in the day, he couldn't have imagined even in his craziest dreams, that he would stumble across the scene that had ended only moments earlier. He had been the first to doubt her claims all those months ago. That Ororo could be mother to a demon child, destined to end the world, had been something you could try in vain to convince him of for the rest of his life. That, however, was before he had seen what he had seen. He was in disbelief from the moment the lightning bolt had struck Xierra, to the vow Kai had made before he left. He had watched as his oldest and most trusted friend, flew off a complete stranger.

_888_

Professor Xavier remained silent as his X-men talked around him in the corridor outside of the war room. Remy and Logan were further down but not out of earshot as the cajun tried to explain everything that had happened.

Remy had brought Xierra into the mansion and gone straight to the lower levels. News of their entrance had made its way to him within seconds, jump started by the sudden rush of thoughts that had radiated from everyone who had witnessed it. By the time he'd entered the infirmary, Xierra had been close to fully healing herself, while Hank and Scott listened to her account of the what had happened in the clearing not far from the mansion. Remy leant silent against the wall opposite her bed, bearing an expression that corresponded to his thoughts of guilt that touched the professor's mind. As soon as she was done, she informed them that she needed to speak with the council in alter-plane, to warn them of Kai's arrival.

Charles sat silent now, trying to guess what was transpiring in the meeting that took place behind closed doors.

The war room seemed ill-suited to hold the attendees that now faced Xierra, even though they were only projections. Tiki sat to her left, a name belaying his immense appearance. The projection was a representation, hardly true to his actual size but even so the enormous bulk of rock of which he comprised seemed to fill most of the room. Necksa sat at his side, the water element's large yellow eyes set against her silver flecked skin and framed by deep green hair. Her aquatic features did little to dull her legendary fairness. Paralda next to her, robed to allow them to have some form with which to converse. It was impossible to see an air elemental unless they wished it so. Finally Djinn completed the formidable company, flames engulfing his menacing frame. They whipped and flared around him, spellbinding in their fiery beauty. Stood at either side of Xierra were Noa, her brother and Meyrin, her grandmother. They all listened as she spoke her piece, choosing to omit more intimate details from her telling. When she was done, they turned to each other to contemplate her words, all except Djinn.

"The Bean Sidhe were entrusted with the warrior. Your _house _was charged with containing the boy. _How_ did you allow this to _happen_!" For a moment they all had to shut or cover their eyes as his form burned brilliant blue then white in less than an instant, mirroring his anger. He stared now directly at Noa, expecting an answer he knew full well he couldn't give.

"Djinn please, your anger serves no one right now." Necksa said calmly. "We knew the boy could not be contained forever. We just hoped," She looked sadly at Xierra, "that he would not be such a threat for some time. We have been lucky enough that those who fight under his banner have not organized themselves well enough to become a true force in open war. But now I fear that will not be the case. They have their leader, their symbol."

"And we have ours." Meyrin countered.

"What we have is an inexperienced child who let the single biggest threat to our existence slip through her fingers." Paralda hit back. Though his expression could not be seen, his tone conveyed his frustration more than well enough.

Xierra's jaw clenched and she fought to hold back her words. "I understand your anger, and I share your sentiments. Believe me I do. And I know that to even be in your presence is an honour. You, elementals who are older than time itself and wise beyond measure. But with the deepest respect for all of you, I am your _only_ chance of preserving your existence as you know it. I was made to fight for you, and that is exactly what I am going to do." She stepped forward to be better visible to them all. "You will treat me with the respect that that entails."

Tiki leant forward. "We are simply voicing our frustrations, no disrespect was meant, I assure you." He looked to Paralda with a warning eye. "And Meyrin is correct. They have their symbol and we will need ours. I believe it is time for you to return home Xierra. There is nothing more that you can do on that side. Your power and your influence would be put to better use in the fight, and there will be one."

"I will return shortly but I will not be coming alone." She said. "Some of the X-men will be coming with me."

"I see no reason for this." Necksa objected.

Paralda nodded "They are humans with no skills or powers we don't already possess. They would be a hindrance before a help."

"I disagree. They are seasoned warriors who fought and won many battles across time and space. Not only do their abilities make them assets but their tactical knowledge and experience, as well as their connection to Kai and his mother, mean that we potentially have more than just brute force and numbers on our side in this."

"And what is to say they don't join him as soon as they're given the chance?" Djinn asked.

"Not what, who. I know these men and women and I have fought side by side with them. They would rather give their lives than rally behind Kai's madness." Xierra answered.

"I'm sure you would have said the same thing about his mother." Djinn stated.

For the first time in her life, Xierra accepted and owned the position she had been born into. "I am not asking your permission. As a member of the royal family I have the right to cross planes with members of my personal guard. I hope that you will congratulate them all on their appointment."

One by one, the elementals faded, until only Tiki remained. "Zeezee." Xierra looked to him, smiling slightly at the informal address. "I have known you since you were smaller than my thumb. I cared for your mother very much and your family is second only to my own. Heed my words and be very careful in your next moves. Even weak friendships can build strong alliances. It would do you well to remember that." He smiled back at her before dissipating.

Xierra turned around to the projections of Noa and Meyrin. "We will talk." Mey said curtly before fading as the others did.

Noa stepped to her. "It'll be good to see you again little sister. I'll have quarters prepared for all of you."

"No, we'll head straight to Meyrin's camp and co-ordinate there. Kai won't wait and neither will we."

He moved to kiss her forehead and the gesture was appreciated even though his projection could not be felt.

He faded and left Xierra alone.

She readied herself and opened the doors to the corridor where the team now waited somberly. "I have to go back to the alter-plane. Kai is there and that means I have to be as well." They nodded in acceptance. "I know that I haven't been a part of the X-men for as long as any of you and that this is a lot to ask, but... I could really use some help on the other side. Your help."

"Tell me the truth." Logan said, his voice low and tired. "Is there a chance I can save my family?"

She paused before answering. "There might still be a chance for Ororo, but Kai suffers no affliction. He is what he is and you have always known what needs to be done. If I can, I will try to help her."

He looked at her, weighing her words. "I'm in."

"We haven't saved the universe in a while. Sure beats a game of football on the lawn on a sunny summers day." Bobby shrugged, the sarcasm just about present in his voice. "Why the hell not."

"An' you can be damn sure I'm not lettin' you run off inta this without a chaperone." Rogue tsked at Bobby. "I'm with ya honey." She smiled at Xierra.

Scott put his hand on Xierra's shoulder. "It doesn't matter how long you've been a part of the X-men. You're one of us now and that's what matters. Besides, Bobby's right. It's been too long since the fate of the world hung in the balance." He tried to joke.

"I will be joining you also." The professor had been expressionless. He had already predicted the objections and raised his hands just as they began. "I know that you've all noticed I have not been myself of late. Knowing what is happening on the other side and being unable to do anything about it... knowing that Mey and Ororo are both on the frontline. You cannot ask me to do otherwise, just as I would not ask the same of you." No one could find a reason to disagree.

"When do we leave?" Hank asked.

"In the hour." Xierra answered. "And... thank you."

They made their way, all except Remy. He reached out and grabbed her wrist gently to stop her. She jolted at his touch, clearly taken aback at the gesture. He waited for the others to round the corner of the adjoining corridor before speaking. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it cajun. I don't expect everybody to jump on board the suicide wagon to a plane of existence where myths are real and the battle for the end of the world is being fought." She laughed, strained as it was.

He could feel her discomfort, and why not. He'd been the one to drive a wedge between any hopes of reconcilement. Back then, he thought he had all the justification he needed. She'd become crazed in her hate for Ororo's unborn son. She'd fled without a word or trace over a year ago then returned just as mysteriously. Given what it had taken for him to feel that much for her, that deeply, he'd seen all of those actions as a vicious disregard. He understood now. While Xierra had been shouting truths from the rooftops, anyone who would listen thought her a lunatic, including him. The mansion must have felt like an asylum for her, and she was the only patient. Who wouldn't want to escape.

Remy stepped in closer. "I'm sorry." He whispered slowly into her ear, lips brushing against her, his body pressed close against hers.

She looked up at him as if to speak. "I..." The moments of silence could not have seem longer, "I have to go." As she walked away, he'd never know that given a minute longer, she would not have been able to.

_888_

_ Macrobi Outpost_

_ -Alter-plane_

Logan walked through the encampment that Xierra had led them to. As dusk fell, the sky turned a brilliant shade of red, more than he had ever witnessed on Earth. He barely felt the chilling wind that blew through, comparing it only to a summers breeze back in Canada. Walking on, flashes came to him of similar conditions in many wars he'd fought in his time. The ground was stamped muddy from the footfall it had endured for the past weeks. Barrack tents while neatly set and spaced, were muddied and tattered from the abuse they'd suffered both in transit and while in use. Fire pits were here and there in front of the odd few tents; small clusters of Banshee women and Macrobi men gathered for warmth, waiting for their evening meals to cook.

Unfamiliar to him, aside from the eerily angelic Banshee warriors, bruised and bloodied, who stood in stark contrast to the seven foot Macrobi soldiers who appeared chiseled straight from granite, were the sounds and smells. His eyes did not need to convince him that he was no longer on Earth. The pitch and tone of the voices and sounds were just so slightly different from their counterparts on Earth. A quirk that probably no human would be able to recognise without enhanced hearing. Every sweet scent seemed more delicious, every putrid stench more foul. Even in his short time on the plane, he could already describe it as nature on overdrive.

He found the tent he'd been ambling toward and stepped in.

"Until now, all we've been doing is engaging the enemy when necessary. We had no plans to launch an all out attack, we're just not ready." Meyrin announced. She sat in council with the X-men, another two of her Banshee sisters and three men who, based on appearance, Logan rightly assumed to be members of the Macrobi. The lanterns that hung in the tent could be mistaken for firelight but their steady glowed suggested otherwise.

Praxis, the larger of the Macrobi, pursed his lips. "We can only hope that they find themselves in the same position. The Demonson seems to have acted rashly and without thought. If what you say is true then we knew of his coming only moments after they did."

"He's right." Scott added. "Any head start they'd have is negligible."

"That's only _if _they were as ill prepared as we assume." Eavan, the Banshee second in command interjected. "I say we launch scouts and a small contingent to the North. A skirmish along their border territories gives us a chance to gain information. Capturing even one of their commanders would mean that we could stop this guesswork." She turned to Meyrin. "If you'll allow it Ur Mòrachd, let me take my soldiers and lead them to it."

Meyrin looked down at the map on the table infront of her. "The scouts have reported a Centaur faction camped to the North. Here." She pointed to the position. "Take your Seven and Enda, you go with your scouts. Once you have that position secured scout further to the west." Both women bowed before turning to leave. "Eavan. I want information, not carcasses."

"With any luck, Mòrachd, you shall have both." She grinned before leaving the tent. Eavan was known for her fighting skill but even in such times, her bloodlust took Meyrin aback.

"So where does that leave us?" Hank asked.

"The Dwarves have agreed to meet with me tomorrow. I hope for all our sakes they recognize the urgency with which this alliance needs to take place. They are a painfully methodical and ridiculously stubborn bunch. But their tunnels run deep and their forgeries are rivaled by none. We would do well to have them on our side." Meyrin looked wary. Even with the Banshee gift of prolonged youth, she appeared fatigued.

"They are all those things," Praxis said, getting to his feet, "but they are also inherintly good. The Demonson can do nothing to sway them."

Logan rolled his eyes. "This is all startin' to sound a bit too much like a kids' fairytale t' me." He had to say, startling the room as though they hadn't even noticed him there. "And for the record, that, Demonson has a name. Do me a favour an' learn it instead o' sproutin' this Lord o' the Rings BS." With that he left.

The last thing he wanted at that point was to hear footsteps that moved to a slow jog in an attempt to catch up with him. "Logan."

"Go peddle it somewhere else, Xierra." He shouted over his shoulder as he made his way away from the site.

"Logan please." She called again. "I'm the last one to preach about putting my foot in it but you've got to cut this shit out before you get used to it." He spun at her words, ready to counter. "You want Ororo back, I can guarantee you you're not going to do it without their help. You're in a reality you don't know in a land you've never been that is populated by, and I hate to state the obvious, millions of fairytale creatures. If it helps you get it together then how about you just play pretend? Or you can make like the rest of us and suck it up!"

In the dim moonlight he was lucky he couldn't perfectly see the self-righteous expression he was sure she now wore. "Hey!" He shouted. He stalked back to her, bearing his teeth within an inch of her face. "_Hey!_ You listen up lady. By whatever shitty luck has seemed ta follow me around my whole life, my family has been dragged inta this soap opera of a war of yours. But that's only just after I thought I might have a shot at somethin' good and normal. So fergive me if I've got issue with, Lurch, talkin' about my son like some entry in a god damn text book." He carried on walking uphill and away from the camp, the air he exhaled trailing behind him like smoke. "We're talkin' about meetin' Dwarves and fightin' Centaurs fer cryin' out loud." He muttered to himself.

"Logan!" Xierra wailed from behind him, her eyes glowing the same brilliant green light that wrapped itself around her body.

"This whole thing is a..." He would've finished his sentence then had he not been kicked clear through the trees before slamming face first into one of their trunks. "Giant, sack o' shit." He managed to let out, hitting the ground.

Xierra flew up, narrowly missing the gargantuan foot that would have rendered her the same crumpled heap that Logan now was.

The wail of the Banshee was described as the single, most terrifying sound one could ever hear. Like the screams of a thousand tortured and painful deaths, omnipresent, and sharp enough to draw blood from the ears of all. Not even the Giants that she now saw in the moon's light, storming up from the valley below, could stop from covering their ears. An army in the encampment responded to their sister's cry, each bathed in the white light that surrounded every Banshee when threatened. They shot into the air, burning the night sky with their sheer number. Just as water rushing in, they flew down to meet the army that awaited them below.

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
